


Illicit Affairs

by avan337



Series: The Folklore Chronicles [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avan337/pseuds/avan337
Summary: Damn Taylor Swift and her great songwriting abilities! It's the "don't call me kid, don't call me baby" line that made me think of Jeff and Annie. I also think this is a representation of Jeff's greatest fears about what would have happened between him and Annie when/if he was emotionally unprepared to handle it. But what do I know? I didn't create these characters, and I only get to mess with them in fanfiction. :-)
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Series: The Folklore Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867309
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	Illicit Affairs

# Illicit Affairs

inspired by the song written by Taylor Swift and Jack Antonoff; set somewhere during late S3/earlyS4

> _Make sure nobody sees you leave  
>  Hood over your head, keep your eyes down  
>  Tell your friends you’re out for a run  
>  You’ll be flushed when you return  
>  Take the road less traveled by  
>  Tell yourself you can always stop  
>  What started in beautiful rooms  
>  Ends with meetings in parking lots_
> 
> _And that’s the thing about illicit affairs  
>  And clandestine meetings and longing stares  
>  It’s born from just one single glance  
>  But it dies and it dies and it dies  
>  A million little times_
> 
> _Leave the perfume on the shelf  
>  That you picked out just for him  
>  So you leave no trace behind  
>  Like you don’t even exist  
>  Take the words for what they are  
>  A dwindling, mercurial high  
>  A drug that only worked  
>  The first few hundred times_
> 
> _And that’s the thing about illicit affairs  
>  And clandestine meetings and stolen stares  
>  They show their truth one single time  
>  But they lie and they lie and they lie  
>  A million little times_
> 
> _And you wanna scream  
>  Don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby”  
>  Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me  
>  You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else  
>  Don’t call me “kid,” don’t call me “baby”  
>  Look at this idiotic fool that you made me  
>  You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else  
>  And you know damn well  
>  For you, I would ruin myself  
>  A million little times_

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Annie zips up her hoodie and assumes a casual air as she calls out a goodbye to the guys. They’re watching an episode of Inspector Spacetime, which usually means a grunted out goodbye in return. Today, though, Troy turns around to face her and asks where she’s headed. His smile is so sweet and innocent that it’s hard for her to lie, but she says she needs fresh air and might go for a run in the park. This is enough to satisfy him, so he good naturedly says, “Have fun!” and turns back to the TV. Luckily for her Abed is too engrossed in the show to pay her any mind.

As she drives out of their complex, she wonders again how she’s come to be at this point, sneaking and lying and staying off the highway for fear of being seen.

Since her apartment was off limits for obvious reasons, they had started at his condo. It seemed an easy enough arrangement, though Annie didn’t like to remind herself of the similar arrangement he had with Britta not that long ago. It worked for a few months before going all to hell the afternoon Shirley came by unexpectedly to drop off a chicken she had roasted for him. Naturally she wanted to stay and talk. Annie had wound up hiding in his closet for two hours, shame and anger washing over her as she listened to their muffled voices coming from the living room.

Now they meet in parking lots. Sometimes he’ll spring for a hotel, but she’s gotten to know the back of his Lexus pretty well. She stopped wearing perfume and changed to an unscented body wash after he complained that, if he could still smell her after a couple of hours, so could any of their friends who wound up in his car. 

That’s not the only adjustments she’s made. In the beginning, she chose each outfit with meticulous care, even buying sexy underwear just for his eyes. Now she throws on whatever’s clean and barely puts on any makeup. If he notices the change, he says nothing. He says nothing most of the time anyway.

It reminds her of how she spiraled down at the height of her Adderall addiction. She would find herself wearing ripped tights, not brushing her hair, her acne out of control from not washing her face properly. She considers how much like a drug he’s become to her, and she knows eventually she will crash and burn again. She briefly wonders what recovery from this addiction will be like: a breaking of their friend group? Total isolation for her? Finally doing what she’s talked about for years and transferring to another school?

She wants to stop. 

On a rare night when he feels like it’s safe enough to go to his place, he slips up and calls her baby. She might have relished it, even given him her trademark _aww_ , except a few days before he had called her kid in front of the study group. She was suggesting a bar that they all try out, and he dismissed her with a condescending, “Leave the choice of drinking establishments to the grownups, kid.” She came close to outing them, right then and there, but everyone else had laughed at the joke and moved on. Minutes later she caught him staring at her in apology, but she wasn’t even sure if he actually felt bad or just wanted to keep her quiet.

She’s given up on the idea of him wanting to come clean, to be with her in the open, where there would be dates and conversations and kisses that led to nothing but more kissing. And friends knowing what you were doing last Thursday when, _"everyone wanted to go to the movies but they couldn’t find you. Or him, how weird, right?"_ She knows now that will never be what he wants, and that it will never be.

When it all began, she thought she loved him. She gave their illicit affair an air of romanticism, told herself he would obviously come around to realizing he loves her, too. If this was how their happily ever after had to begin, then it would be worth it in the end.

Now she thinks she might actually hate him. She feels used, and broken, and as naïve as he always suggested she was. Even if there is still love, even if he makes her feel things she’s never felt before and worries she’ll never feel again, it’s not enough. Not anymore.

There aren’t many good parts left, if there ever were any. But the worst part – the **absolute** worst part – is that he knows what he’s doing to her. Or what she’s allowing him to do to her. He knew from the beginning, when she didn’t, that it would end up like this. But he did it anyway. She briefly wonders if he hates himself for it, too.

Annie takes a deep breath in as she drives around to the back of the deserted parking lot, choosing a spot in the corner away from the surveillance cameras. Today’s the day she’ll end it. She won’t even get out of her car. She’ll just roll down her window, tell him off and drive away, leaving the dust to settle where it will. 

She wants to stop.

She hears the Lexus before she sees it, watches as he backs into the spot next to her car. He parks and gives her an expectant look. 

She wants to stop.

As she opens her door and steps into his car, she hates herself, and him, a million times more than she already did.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn Taylor Swift and her great songwriting abilities! It's the "don't call me kid, don't call me baby" line that made me think of Jeff and Annie. I also think this is a representation of Jeff's greatest fears about what would have happened between him and Annie when/if he was emotionally unprepared to handle it. But what do I know? I didn't create these characters, and I only get to mess with them in fanfiction. :-)


End file.
